


towards the brighter side (of this)

by cynical_optimist



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Violence, M/M, Soft Boys, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 09:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_optimist/pseuds/cynical_optimist
Summary: “You just got slugged in the fucking cheek,” Elias interrupts.“Well, yeah,” Mikael says. “But notwell. It doesn't even hurt.”-After the fight, the balloon squad head back to Adam's house.





	towards the brighter side (of this)

**Author's Note:**

> I asked the SkamFWN chat what I should write for mikadam and [koolranchkidz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koolranchkidz/pseuds/koolranchkidz) suggested something regarding the fight in episode five. Endless thanks as always to [Sarah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/strangetowns/pseuds/strangetowns) for editing and to [Lise](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aleyha/pseuds/aleyha) for looking over it for me <3\. Title from [Tough Guy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mb6d6PHmU_Q) by Cyberbully Mom Club.

Mikael, if asked, will tell absolutely anyone that he's not even hurt, that he could hardly feel the punch.  _ No _ , the boys don't have to get worked up about it.  _ Yes _ , he's fine.  _ No _ , there's no need to find further revenge.

Also, if Adam could stop looking at him like he's about to break apart at any moment, Mikael would much appreciate it.

“I'm fine,” he mutters for the fifth time in as many minutes, holding the cold pack to his cheek. Elias glares. Mutasim shakes his head. Adam doesn't move his hand from where it's been resting on Mikael’s back since they walked away from the fight. “Really,” he insists, not sure whether to lean against Adam’s kitchen counter or Adam himself. “I'm--”

“You just got slugged in the fucking cheek,” Elias interrupts.

“Well, yeah,” Mikael says. “But not  _ well _ . It doesn't even hurt.”

That's not quite true; his face is smarting, not yet numb, the sting of the ice and the ache of his cheek clashing as the paracet he took struggles to kick in. It was a good punch. That's not something he's going to admit, however, as a tough young adult who absolutely does not have a section of his closet dedicated to the softest sweaters he can find.

As a good portion of the sweaters were found by or stolen from the boys around him, he knows he's not fooling anyone.

“We can take you to the hospital,” Mutasim suggests. “Just in case.”

“It's not broken,” Mikael says, immediate. “I just need to, like, chill for a while.”

Elias and Mutasim instantly back out of his face, but Adam stays where he is. Mikael makes a decision, leaning into his side. For some ridiculous reason, his cheek aches a little less-- or maybe it’s not as noticeable, not as pressing.

“Anyway,” Mutasim says, “Has Yousef texted any of you back?”

He hasn't, nor has he seen any of their texts, and Mikael has to admit that hurts almost as much as the punch did. He just disappeared, right before the fight started, and the bar must be up in arms about it. He would have heard, surely.

“What the fuck,” Elias says, texting him again. “Where the fuck did he even go?”

“No idea,” Mutasim replies. “But fuck him, honestly.”

Elias grimaces. “Hey now--”

“You're a rock star,” Mikael finishes, half under his breath.

Adam, who hasn't yet said anything, snorts, and Mikael turns to look at him. He can't say he doesn't enjoy the way it brings him more comfortably into his arms.

Whatever, he can admit that. He's mature enough to realise that he's head over fucking heels in love with his best friend. It's not a big deal.

Adam looks back, eyes warm and concerned, and his heart speeds, tripping a little over its own feet. Mikael is the first to look away, but he does so by nestling his head a little more comfortably between Adam’s neck and shoulder. Next to them, Elias and Mutasim are still discussing what happened, and Mikael can feel Adam’s shoulders tensing.

Rather than say anything, he slips his free arm around Adam’s waist and closes his eyes. The ice pack is starting to work, he thinks.

There's a long pause, the small kitchen still tense.

“We really can't do anything?” Adam says at last, as though he’s been stewing over those words and the perfect way to say them for the last half hour, and Elias and Mutasim look at Mikael, expectant.

For a moment, he considers shaking his head, but that's probably the shittiest idea he’s had all day. “No,” he says, though that requires marginally more effort. “Again, can we just chill?” He knows--and all the boys know-- that confronting that particular group of friends means indirectly hurting Even, and he might not talk to them anymore but he doesn’t need any more pain in his life.

“Yeah, cool,” Mutasim nods. “We can do that.”

Adam shifts, and Mikael moves, telling himself he isn't disappointed  by the displacement. “Want to watch a movie?” Adam suggests.

They raid his fridge and pile all over each other on his couch, and Mikael chooses the movie without any protest. It's some action movie with a few awesome explosions and badass fight scenes, but all he can focus on are the points where each of the other boys’ limbs overlap with his, the warmth of Adam where he's curled into his side. Only Yousef is missing, and that sucks, but Mikael can ignore it for the time being. Until he texts them back, at least.

At some point, Adam’s parents get home, poking their heads in to say hello before heading off to their own room. Mikael is only half paying attention, but he makes sure to wave at them and hide the now melted ice pack behind his back.

One by one, the boys start to leave. First Elias--when his phone chimes, they all turn toward him, expectant. It’s his sister, though, pissed beyond reason at all of them. Which is fair, he supposes, since it was her friend group they'd been fighting with, and by her invitation that they were even at the bar. Elias grimaces and clambers to his feet, kissing Mikael soundly on the forehead as he leaves.

Next is Mutasim, who  _ technically _ has a curfew and will probably need to jog home to make it. He kisses Mikael’s temple gently and fist bumps Adam, not lingering in the slightest, just in case.

Mikael knows he should leave soon, but he's so fucking  _ comfortable _ . He was hit in the face today-- he can indulge in a little extra cuddling with his best friend.  _ Treat yourself _ , he thinks, a little ridiculously, and fights the urge to giggle.

So, he stays. The first movie they watched wasn't that great in terms of cinematography, but Mikael chooses the next specifically for that. He stays curled up in Adam’s side, and occasionally Adam leans down to murmur commentary into his ear. After a while, Mikael’s world narrows just to that--the brush of Adam’s fingers on his arm, his warm breath on his ear, the sharp swirl of colours on the screen. When he takes in a long breath, the movement of Adam’s chest matches his.

Mikael finds his eyes slipping closed. 

“Hey,” Adam says after some time--Mikael  isn’t sure how much, exactly--has passed, and his shoulder where Mikael’s head is resting is finally relaxed. “You staying the night?”

With some effort, Mikael takes his phone out of his pocket. It’s too late to head back home, probably. “Yeah,” he answers. “I’ll text my parents.”

“Cool,” Adam says, and rests his head on Mikael’s. “Sharing or a mattress?”

Mikael shrugs, turning off his phone. There’s still no text from Yousef.

“I’m too tired to get the mattress out,” Adam says. “My bed’s big enough.”

“Sounds good,” Mikael says, and yawns before he can stop himself.

Adam laughs, and it’s softer that it usually is but it means that he’s feeling better than he was earlier. Mikael smiles, and it hurts a little to do so. There’s probably a metaphor in that,  if only he was awake enough to find it.

“Shut up,” he mutters, and lets Adam manoeuvre him into a sitting position and then pull him to his feet. As Adam turns off the tv and neatens the living room, he doesn’t try to let go of Mikael’s hand. Mikael doesn’t appreciate being dragged around the room, exactly, but the alternative is not holding his hand, and he’s too tired to entertain that possibility.

They end up separating to get ready for bed, but even that isn’t for particularly long. Adam lends Mikael some pyjamas-- Mikael is definitely stealing this hoodie, and that has absolutely everything to do with the way it smells like Adam’s detergent-- and a spare toothbrush, and the two of them pile into Adam’s bed. With the number of times the five of them stay over at each others’ houses, it’s become a routine.

“Shit,” Adam says, as soon as they’re settled, Mikael lying on his uninjured side and Adam facing them, fingers and toes barely brushing. “I forgot to turn off the light.”

“Shit,” Mikael repeats, but doesn’t bother getting up. When Adam makes no move to, either, he adds, “I’ve been critically injured, don’t make  _ me _ do it.”

“Asshole,” Adam says, fond, and pushes himself out of the bed. Once the light is off and all else is settled, he gets back into the bed, careful not to jostle Mikael.

This time, when he lies down, he is closer than before, close enough that Mikael would make a joke about his breath smelling if he wasn’t afraid it would make him move. For a few long moments, they breathe together, and Mikael closes his eyes. His cheek aches still, but absently.

Mikael feels warm fingers trail over his cheek, and he opens his eyes slowly. Adam is looking at him like he’s going to fall apart or disappear in front of his eyes, like he’s struggling to hold onto Mikael as he slips through his fingers. Mikael swallows, and Adam’s fingers sweep up his cheek, so gentle he can hardly feel it.

_ I’m fine _ , he doesn’t say.

_ I hate that people hurt you _ , Adam doesn’t reply.

Mikael breathes in, out, and reaches up to circle Adam’s wrist with his fingers. Adam’s eyes flick back to his from where he had been following  the movement of his own hand. Mikael runs his thumb over the inside of Adam’s wrist, blinks.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Adam moves his hand down to the intersection between Mikael’s neck and chest, and leans forward. He kisses Mikael’s cheek softly, away from the bruise, so close to his lips that Mikael isn’t sure it’s his cheek that’s being kissed.

Adam leans back, strokes Mikael’s jawline with his thumb. “Goodnight,” he says, quiet, and Mikael nods, words refusing to form on his tongue.

Rather than speaking, he worms closer to Adam again, closes his eyes. He falls asleep to the sound of Adam’s breaths, the movement of his thumb on his jaw, the heat of the almost-kiss lingering just to the right of his lips.

He falls asleep, and he is fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://boxesfullofsanasmiling.tumblr.com)!


End file.
